Certainly, Sir, Ma'am, Miss
by Allyarra
Summary: Lieutenant Mary Crawley expected a military career but that was cut short after she was wounded in action and honorably discharged, sent home unable to walk. Matthew Crawley never expected a position at Downton, let alone as an executive, and he certainly never expected to be thrown together at every opportunity with the CEO's veteran daughter.
1. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Mary Crawley was not the son that her father had so hoped and prayed for and she'd spent much of her life trying to be that son for him. Even as a little girl she'd chosen to watch football with him rather than have a tea party with her sisters, no matter how much she might have wanted to dress up with them, to wear the tiara her mama had bought her. No, that had always been for Edith and Sybil to enjoy, Mary had her father to please. It wasn't that she couldn't be a perfect lady if she so chose, but more that she had no use for it in the life that she'd chosen for herself.

A lady wasn't much use in the field, after all, and Mary was a soldier, had been for many years. She'd attended Sandhurst and had received the Queen's Medal. She'd been in the war, had fought alongside good men and women, she'd served her country just as her father and grandfather before her. Lieutenant Mary Crawley was well respected and even well-liked by the troops she led, but they'd never have called her a lady. Occasionally they might have described her as aloof and cold, but at the end of things she'd been a soldier above all else. They'd have been shocked to see her at this moment, dressed to the nines and socializing with the aristocracy.

The truth was, at that moment, she'd rather have been anywhere but in the ballroom of her childhood home. Her parents had planned this party perfectly to match up with her leave, knowing that she'd be forced to attend. It was difficult, being the eldest child, the one with all the true expectations heaped upon her shoulders. She thrived under the pressure though and she knew that her parents, her father especially, were proud of her. That didn't make it any easier for her to be paraded around like a prize pig. She'd spent too long distancing herself from this life, trying to be the son her father still wanted so desperately, to be comfortable as Lady Mary Crawley. It didn't help that in the morning she would be shipping out again along with the rest of her troop.

"Mary!" her sister called and Mary swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waiter before heading over to where Edith was beckoning her. She stood with a group of men, obviously holding court in a way that she'd never managed to do very smoothly back when Mary had lived at home. "Mary, I'm so glad you're still here," Edith exclaimed, placing a kiss on her older sister's cheek.

"Where else would I be?" Mary responded, raising an eyebrow. "I ship out in the morning, it's not like I was going to go to Paris!"

Edith's smile turned brittle but Mary paid that little heed, attention drawn to the tall blonde man who had quickly covered his laugh with a cough. He was handsome, that was for sure, and fit enough that she could tell he cared about his body but not enough to be a vain idiot like some of the men in the room. She knew who he was, of course, but chose not to reveal that information. She'd discovered long ago that the people who attended these sorts of functions could be more vicious than the terrorists she pursued in battle.

"I'm afraid I don't know your friends Edith, you'll have to introduce us I'm afraid," she said, knowing that her sister had called her over to do just that and by asking her to do so was making it appear as if Edith had little manners.

"Of course darling," Edith gritted out in the most pleasant voice she could manage through teeth clenched together in a smile. "You remember Evelyn, don't you? We all went to secondary school together!"

"How could I forget? Evelyn, it's lovely to see you again. I hope the years have treated you well." Mary had little interest in the man; for all that they'd once been friends she'd found that many of her old school friends had become boring and old and incredibly close minded in the years since they'd ditched class together. Evelyn was an exception, one of the few she'd kept up with, but of course Edith wouldn't know that.

"This is Matthew Crawley," Edith threw out before Evelyn could respond and Mary had to fight to keep her composure. The handsome blonde man was the lawyer her father had chosen as partner in his firm, the one he was going to groom to someday replace him. The man that her father had chosen to be the son he'd never had.

"Mr. Crawley, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Papa speaks of you so often and so fondly I'm shocked that I've never met you before!" she managed to get out, forcing a smile. It wasn't the man's fault her father could be an ass and she'd long since stopped blaming others for things that they had no blame in.

"Lady Mary, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you," he said and she had to suppress a shiver at the sound of his voice. "I've heard so many terribly impressive things about you that it's almost like meeting a legend in person."

She laughed at that and gave him a smile. If he was going to acknowledge her and her many achievements then perhaps she could live with his presence in her life and in her family's business. She had the army, after all, and she'd decided to make a career of it, there was no point resenting that this man was going to take the place that she'd once dreamed of occupying herself.

"If you're going to be that flattering then I shall have to gift you with a dance," she laughed and pressed her almost empty glass of champagne as she held her other hand out to Matthew, who took it with a smile.

"I'd be delighted to accept. It's not every evening that the most charming woman in the room agrees to dance with me." Edith shoots her a nasty look as he turns his back and she has to stop herself from returning it. She loves her sister dearly but sometimes Edith can be the most childish and selfish person in the room.

It's a waltz and Mary's just a little bit grateful for that, she doesn't get much dancing practice in the field after all. Matthew is charming and a beautiful dancer and Mary is surprised to find herself unable to stop laughing, to keep herself from grinning up at him even as the dance ends. Somehow they end up dancing the next song and the next and the next until finally they stop, only to find drinks and wander out to the balcony together.

His company makes the dull party seem lively and interesting and she finds herself glad that she came, even if it is the last night of her leave. At the end of the night they part friends and Mary promises to look him up the next time she's on leave and he promises to send her any important news while she's gone. She kisses his cheek in goodbye and if her lips linger there a little longer than proper, well, neither of them are complaining.

Three months after that idyllic night she wakes up in a field hospital with a broken back and the news that she's going home, unable to walk.

* * *

It's been more than a year since Matthew joined Downton and sometimes it still feels as if he has no place here. The people who work there are lovely and he feels like he might have found a place here much more easily if it hadn't been for the fact that he'd been brought in to replace someone who had been well loved. Not only that but he'd also not been their first choice for the job. He's still not even sure how Robert Crawley had heard of him, let alone why he'd decided that Matthew would be perfect for the vacancy created by his late nephew.

Sure he was good at his job but there were others who were just as well suited, possibly even more. Matthew had learned to stop questioning his good fortune most of the time but every now and then doubts slipped in. Especially when all of Downton was in such a somber mood.

Not that he blamed his colleagues, he was just as somber, and yet these thoughts wouldn't leave his mind, along with the image of Mary Crawley, laughing as she danced with him and then giving him a coy smile at the end of the night before walking away all those months ago. She'd captivated him from the moment he set eyes on her, this sleek beauty who had looked as if she belonged at that party, as if all of the aristocrats in that room had gathered solely to pay homage to her. His breath had been stolen before he'd even known who she was.

Then Edith had called her over and he'd realized that this was the prodigal daughter, the one everyone spoke of in awe and hushed whispers. Lieutenant Mary Crawley had seemed in that moment to be as large a figure as the tales that he'd been told. They'd danced and she'd been clever and funny and astute, but she'd also been the first person in the Crawley family besides her father who hadn't treated him like a charity case.

Since that night he'd written her three times and received two responses. He wasn't expecting another response, not when word had reached the Crawley family that Mary had been wounded in battle. He'd been with Robert when he'd received the call, had watched the blood drain from his face and heard his voice shake as he'd demanded answers.

He'd known, without having to be told, that the call had been about Mary and his heart had frozen in his chest, sure that she was dead. But then he'd heard Robert's side of the conversation, had realized that she was still alive and relief had almost made him light-headed.

Her parents had gone to the army hospital to retrieve her, to bring her home as soon as possible so that she might have the best care possible, better than anything the government could afford to give her. She was home now, that much he knew, but no one spoke of her now. Her name was taboo and any gossip about her was quickly stifled under Charles Carson's watchful gaze.

Not too long ago it had been a rare day when he hadn't heard her name at least once, she'd been that beloved by the staff of Downton. He'd heard stories of her following her father to work all the time and how she'd interned there all through university, before deciding to join the army. She'd been a favorite, especially of Carson's, and it had been too painful after the injury to talk of her as they always had. He'd only met her once in person and even he agreed.

And now, tonight, he would be seeing her again. Dinner at the Lord Robert Crawley's home had been intimidating enough when it had just been family, now it was to be a dinner party to reintroduce Mary to society. He had a feeling that it had been Cora Crawley's idea rather than Mary's.

She'd written to him once that she hated the parties that her mother would throw, that she'd always felt more comfortable in situations where she didn't have to act the perfect lady and he'd told her that she'd pulled it off wonderfully the night that they'd met. He'd imagined her laughing at that. He hoped more than anything that he would manage to make her laugh tonight as well. Her laugh seemed to haunt his dreams, making it difficult to sleep.

His thoughts were cut short as he pulled up in front of the Crawley house, climbing out of his car and handing his keys to the valet. It had always seemed strange that the Crawleys employed a valet, but he'd gotten used to it on his visits to their home. He took a deep breath and started up the steps towards the house, nodding at the man who let him in.

Inside was beautiful and he never failed to admire it no matter how many times he'd been there before. This time though his attention was caught by the people in the room across the foyer and the Crawley family holding court.

"Matthew, my boy!" Robert cried out as Matthew shed his coat, walking toward him with a large smile and extending his hand. "So glad you could make it."

Matthew returned the smile and the handshake but his attention was drawn to the corner where many of the younger people in the room had gathered. "I wouldn't miss it," he responded and Robert laughed, urging him toward the other young people. Matthew went without argument.

"Hello," he said as he joined them and it was only when he did that he was allowed an unimpeded view of who they were gathered around.

Edith was holding court, as she did whenever she had the chance, but for once she shared the spotlight, although neither woman looked as if they wanted to. Mary was dressed as beautifully as she'd been the night they met and he had to admire how she looked in her dress but it was almost painful to look at her for too long. She sat as straight and tall as if she were on a throne rather than a wheelchair, her face a mask of polite interest.

"Hello, Mary," he said, striving to keep his voice even and under control although a lump had appeared in his throat. Her eyes snapped to his face and he held her gaze as it seemed to assess everything about him. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do, not when this proud woman sat in front of him, crippled while she fought for her country.

"Matthew," she drawled and he was a little ashamed to find that at least she sounded the same as she did in his memory. "I see my family hasn't yet managed to run you off."

"No, I'm afraid you're still stuck with me," he returned, hoping to see that sly smirk that he couldn't seem to forget.

"Pity," she spit out, raising an eyebrow before motioning to someone who he hadn't noticed was standing in the shadows. The blonde woman dressed in a nurse's scrubs stepped forward so that Mary could speak to her. "I'm afraid I'm a bit tired Anna, would you mind taking me to the dining room now so that I might have a moment to rest before we eat?"

"Of course Miss Crawley," she said and then pushed Mary through the gap in the crowd while they all silently watched her go.

Edith gave a high pitched laugh that grated on Matthew but successfully brought the attention back to her. "Well, it's nice that at least her manners haven't changed!" she exclaimed and the others laughed but Matthew couldn't help but bristle at the insult to Mary. She was trying to adjust to being unable to walk and her supposed friends were laughing at her!

He made his excuses gratefully when Violet Crawley called out to him, demanding that he come pay her homage. He went without fuss, knowing that Violet at least would never tolerate anyone speaking ill of her granddaughter.

* * *

A/N: Well here's my first attempt at a Downton Abbey fic! I thought it would be quite interesting to see a role reversal in which Mary was the injured vet rather than Matthew and here's the result! As a disclaimer I of course don't own Downton Abbey or the characters and I'd also like to say that I have little knowledge of the British military and I'm not an expert on disabilities but I will do my best to treat the subject as it deserves. And thank you to Alyse (alyseofwonderland on tumblr) for the title!


	2. Chapter 2

Being back in England is hard, harder than she'd thought it would be if she's being truthful with herself, and she is being truthful with herself because she promised herself that she would be. She may lie to anyone else but to herself there will never be anything but the truth. In this situation the truth is cold and painful but it's something she must face.

There is every chance that she'll never walk again and that is reality. It's not going away if she ignores, she's not going to suddenly wake up one day and be perfectly healthy again. If there's one thing that Mary prides herself on above all things it's her ability to accept the hand that life has dealt her without flinching away from it. With each day that passes it's becoming harder and harder to claim that.

She doesn't want this, not just because it throws a wrench into her entire life plan, but also because she's forced back into her parents' society and more than anything she hates the way that they look at her. Lieutenant Mary Crawley is not willing to accept pity, no matter the source. She prefers the rude stares of strangers to the way that old friends act so awkwardly around her, trying to talk around her reality, trying to act as if nothing has changed.

Everything has changed. Everything. Mary might be able to deal with that better if others were willing to admit it. Even her parents still try to pretend that Mary is going to be getting better, that it's just a matter of finding the right doctor, the right treatment, throwing enough money at the problem, the same way that they've dealt with her all of her life. Mary wants to scream and cry, wants to throw one of the legendary temper tantrums of her childhood, but she can't. She can't do that to her parents, not after putting them through this.

The look on her mother's face when she'd entered Mary's hospital room and saw her eldest daughter still haunts Mary's dreams. She'd looked as pale as a ghost, face drawn and terror and relief warring in her eyes as she'd seen Mary sitting up and alert. Mary's father had had to draw her into his arms and allow her to cry into his chest to keep her from throwing herself on Mary to embrace their child and possibly hurting her. The entire time he'd looked at Mary, as if drinking in the sight of her.

"They'll be coming in to eat in just a few minutes," Anna murmured, interrupting her train of thoughts. Mary nodded and straightened up from the slouch she allowed herself, carefully checking to make sure that she hadn't messed with her hair or makeup in the mirror above the breakfront. "Do you want to stay for dinner still?"

Mary was more than grateful for Anna's presence and thoughtfulness, since arriving home the week before she was sure she'd have ended up throwing one of those tantrums if Anna hadn't been there to keep her calm and allow her to escape. Really, Mary thought, she was one of the only bright spots in this whole situation.

"No, thank you, Anna, I'd like to finish the night out," Mary said, pleased that her voice held steady.

"Then I'll go and eat my dinner in the kitchen, send for me when you'd like to leave," Anna told her before heading out the servants' door. Mary watched her go and then, for just a moment, she relished being truly alone.

It only lasted a moment before people began to filter into the dining room and Mary had to smile at them in greeting. They all carefully avoided sitting too close to her, as politely as they could, of course. No one really wanted to sit by the cripple, they wouldn't like having a reminder of such horrible things as war right in their face at dinner. Mary had to stifle the urge to laugh at that thought, although her polite smile of greeting changed to a much colder one. The thought amused her so much that she forgot to pay attention to them.

"Is this seat taken?" Matthew's voice startled and she did her best not to show it. She turned her head ever so slightly and tipped it up so that she could look into his ridiculously blue eyes.

Mary swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and looked back down, knowing she did not want to sit next to him and that she would not be able to escape it. "No, please," she said and he sat next to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him along her right side.

"I hope you're feeling better," he says and she has to scramble for a moment to think of what he means before she remembers her excuse for running away. She wishes that she could run away now.

"Yes, much," she smiles out of him, more out of habit and the manners that have been drilled into her head since she was a little girl than out of any true desire to do so. "I'm afraid that people tire me out so much more easily these days," she says and thinks there, that'll keep him quiet for a moment. He won't know how to respond to that.

He doesn't of course, just gives a soft "oh" and gratefully turns to the gentleman on his other side to answer the question the man's just asked. Mary's vindictive satisfaction fades quickly because Anthony Strallan has taken the seat on her other side and she knows that she's in for a dull night now. She searches desperately for Edith, hoping that her sister is close enough that she might engage Anthony in conversation, but it's not to be. Edith is almost at the far end of the table. She'll have no rescue tonight.

"Mary, my dear," Anthony exclaims, as if surprised to see that he's sitting next to her. "So lovely to see you again!"

"It's nice to see you as well, Anthony."

"It's always so very strange to be here when you're not," he says and she has to hide a wince. She shouldn't be here now, she should be back with her troop, back where she actually knew what to do. "I'm very glad to see you again."

This is the problem with Anthony, because he always seems to put his foot in his mouth without realizing, and then he never means any harm by it, that she can never quite bring herself to be as cutting with him as she would with others. "Yes, well, I'm sure so much has changed since I saw you last, do tell me the latest news," she finally manages, knowing that this topic will distract him from any lulls in conversation on her part. Anthony Strallan is so very harmless when you know how to manage him that she can't help but feel a little bad for her earlier annoyance at her discovery that he would be sitting next to her.

Not that she blames her annoyance on him, she places that squarely on the shoulders of one Matthew Crawley, who she'd not been expecting to attend tonight and who she certainly had not expected to be sitting next to during dinner. She's not sure why but somehow it's harder to be around Matthew than it is to be around some other people since her injury. Perhaps because the only time she ever saw him in person they were dancing and she had such a lovely time that to see him now that she can't even stand seems to spoil the memory. Whatever the reason is, she's feeling shier than she has since she was a young girl and her mother had had to force her to go to school every morning. It makes her words clumsy and sharper than she intends, but she can't seem to help herself. Not when every time she looks Matthew in the eyes she's reminded of how wonderful a dancer he was and how much fun they'd had together that evening and that it'll never happen again.

As with everything else that unsettles her, she does her best to ignore it, which means ignoring him, and unfortunately he's not making it very easy. Not when every now and then he'll lean over and whisper some comment in her ear and she can't stop herself from reacting. She's had to cover her mouth more than once to keep from laughing out loud and she keeps smiling at him, real smiles as she hasn't given in months, but she can't seem to help herself. His presence is a double edged sword.

She likes him, she knows that for sure, even though she knows that many people feel that he's occupying the spot in her family's company that should belong to her now that she's left the military behind her. It's not that she doesn't want the position, the acknowledgement that comes with it, but more that she knows that she's not suited for it. She's spent years now in the hot deserts of the Middle East and although she might have a degree in business she has never put that into practice. Matthew is much more suited to the position than she'd ever be and what she truly envies is that he has a place.

That's what truly hurts her the most about this entire situation, that she feels as if she's lost her place in the world. Matthew seems to be finding his at Downton and while she shouldn't begrudge him that, she does. She misses that sense of belonging that she'd found in the military and that he seems to have found at Downton, she misses it fiercely and she hasn't a clue how to find it again.

* * *

It was unnerving to sit so near to Mary and to be able to see her in person when for so long she's been just a memory or a person on the other end of an email. He's not yet sure whether or not he prefers it that way. She's different from the woman in his memories, that much becomes clearer and clearer the more time he spends with her. Not that he'd expected her to be the same, or that he had any right to expect her to be exactly as she'd been the first and only time he'd met her.

What is the same though, is the look of loneliness and longing that comes over her when she thinks that no one is looking. It's what first drew him to her, what made him interested enough in the haughty Lady Mary to ask her to dance that night. He doesn't regret it, not in the least, although he's found that since then she's only become more and more a fixture in his thoughts. He was almost grateful when the dinner had finally ended and he'd been able to escape.

Not that he was escaping from Mary, no, that wasn't it at all, but that he was escaping from the house and the people she'd grown up with. He didn't belong in that world and while it was exciting to every now and then get a glimpse of it, he'd found in his time at Downton that the longer he spent in that world the more he longed for simpler times. Matthew even preferred the long hours that he put in at the office to the after hours social events that had become a mandatory part of his life. Those made him uncomfortable, as if everyone in the room was judging him, thinking he didn't belong there and didn't belong in his position at Downton.

A sigh escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair once again as he stared down at his papers, unable to make head or tails of what exactly he was supposed to be doing. He muttered curses and threats under his breath as he tried to sort out his schedule and get everything in order, knowing he'd never manage to. Matthew wanted either a very stiff drink or a very long nap because this day was not going well at all and his ever-present thoughts of Mary Crawley were not helping in the least. His personal assistant had decided that he did not like the idea of working for the interloper, which was more stressful than working as a personal assistant should be, and had found a new position with some other executive at some other company and had dumped his very inefficient and confusing system into Matthew's lap that morning, claiming that he'd given notice two weeks ago.

Matthew very much doubted that but he'd had no way of proving it, not when he couldn't even figure out what time his meetings were for the day.

The knock on his door was a very welcome distraction from trying to sort it all out. "John! Please, do come in," he said, more than happy to see Robert's own personal assistant at the door. "Excuse the mess, I'm afraid that Mr. Lang left me in a bit of a bind this morning."

Bates surveyed the papers and Matthew's disheveled appearance and Matthew had to fight down a blush. It wasn't his fault that his office was a disaster zone and he shouldn't feel at all embarrassed about it, but that was difficult to remember under John Bates' professional gaze.

"I'm sorry to see that, my professional pride is wounded at the idea that someone who shares the same occupation would leave such a mess," Bates said with a small smile and Matthew returned it, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just that little bit at the idea that John would not be judging him unfavorably.

"It had nothing to do with you, I'm sure."

Bates grimaced and Matthew wasn't sure if it was in response to his words or just his leg paining him as he sat down across from Matthew. "Well, in any case, I wanted to make sure that you were able to handle everything on your own and that Mr. Lang hadn't left too much chaos behind, but I see now that that's not going to happen."

Matthew sighed and ran his hand through his hair once again, watching as Bates carefully did not meet his eyes. The truth was, as much as Matthew was loathe to admit it, he desperately needed the help. When he'd first come to Downton he'd resisted the idea of a personal secretary but since then his time had come to have so many more demands on it and he'd come to rely on Lang, only to have Lang leave him high and dry.

"I can't seem to see how any of this will be quickly dealt with. Mr. Lang certainly left a mess in his wake."

Bates cleared his throat carefully before speaking. "About that, I know that he's been having trouble recently and I hope you won't hold his decision to seek a less stressful position out against him."

"No!" Matthew burst out, horrified at the thought that he might resent Henry Lang for choosing his health over staying loyal to Matthew at Downton. "No," he said again, in a calmer voice, "I certainly don't blame him, I know how difficult it's been for him to readjust to civilian life, I wish him only the best."

"I'm glad, sir, to hear that," Bates said in a soft voice and Matthew was reminded that Bates himself was a veteran, one who'd fought many years ago, but still someone who had survived a war. "But in any case you'll be needing some help."

Matthew smile ruefully, knowing it to be the truth. "If you've any suggestions I'd love to hear them, but for now I'm afraid that I'll have to muddle through on my own until I've got some time to interview someone new."

"That's just it, sir, I've had an idea and I wanted to run it by you," Bates voice held even but Matthew could still see the nerves he was trying to hide. Whatever this idea was, he wasn't certain that it was something that Matthew would like.

"Then by all means, enlighten me." Matthew was sure that any idea of Bates' had to be better than the nothing he was currently dealing with.

"It's only that I've been talking to Anna, that is, Miss Smith, Lady Mary's nurse and she says that Lady Mary would fare much better if she had something to do besides attend garden parties and socialize," Bates said and it took a long moment before his words sunk in. "Lady Mary went to university before Sandhurst and she's got a degree in business, she'd certainly be able to manage anything you needed of her."

Matthew let out a long breath as the full implications of Bates' idea occurred to him. "Has this been brought up with anyone else? Has Lady Mary's opinion been asked?"

His stomach suddenly felt as if he'd swallowed a stone. He liked the idea of seeing Mary again, very much liked the idea of spending most every day with her, but he didn't know how to respond to this. Mary might have been released from the hospital more than a month ago, but he wasn't sure that her health could handle a job such as this, especially not considering Mr. Lang's own difficulties. But he was getting ahead of himself. There was, after all, no guarantee that Mary would even want to work for him.

"No, sir, I wanted to get the idea past you first before I spoke to Anna, Miss Smith, about it. Lady Marry would, after all, be working for you if she was to take the job."

Matthew didn't know what to do. He liked the idea very much, a little too much for only having met Mary face to face on two occasions, but he also didn't think it very likely that Mary would want to work as a personal assistant. It didn't seem like something that would appeal to the prim and proper Lady Mary who he'd met at dinner the week before and, truth be told, he didn't think it would appeal all that much to the Lieutenant Mary Crawley he remembered from that dance and her letters. No, it was best to nip this sort of thing in the bud.

"Well, I have no objections if Lady Mary would like to do so and if it wouldn't do any harm to her health," is what came out his mouth and he was hard put not to look startled at his own words. "If you would like to bring up the idea to Miss Smith I'd be happy to discuss it."

Bates looked positively cheerful at his acceptance and Matthew had to stop himself from groaning. "Very well sir, I'll talk to her this evening. In the meantime let me know if you'll need any help with scheduling."

"I will be sure to do so, Mr. Bates. Have a nice evening," Matthew said and waited til Bates had shut the door behind him before allowing his head to drop onto his desk and groaning. It seemed as if everything would be getting more difficult rather than less and he prayed that Lady Mary would refuse the job.

* * *

A/N: I hope you've all enjoyed the second chapter! Thank you all for the response I've gotten over this story so far and I hope that it lives up to your expectations! This second chapter is coming pretty quickly on the heels of the first and there will be a longer delay before I can post the third chapter as I leave for China the day after tomorrow and will be there for the next few months. Hopefully this will just mean I won't be able to update until the end of the week but it might be a few days longer than that.


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